Bleed The Stars
by cut up angel wings
Summary: Remus Lupin had sworn to protect his daughter. He loved her and that was what mattered. However, he had not expected to be protecting her from herself...please r&r.
1. prologue: contemptuous

**Author: **Marissa (lonelyheartsxxc0llide)

**Rating:** PG13 – subject to change in the future.

**Setting:** summer after fifth year.

**Spoilers: **_Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix_

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing, unfortunately =( except for the concept and Victoria, but that's not enough for me! ONE DAY I SHALL OWN IT ALL…mwahaha. Kidding.

**Summary:** _I'll always love you, the way a father should love his daughter…_

…he had sworn to protect her. He loved her and that was what mattered. However, he had not expected to be protecting her from herself…

[ **bleed the stars.** ]

[ prologue; contemptuous. ]

_she's been made to lie._

            Blood pooling, swirling gently in the palm of a closed fist. Fury ripping through her veins like wildfire, and then freezing over with despair. She had never been one to take the insults or the mockery. Harmless satire, they said. Harmless? Nothing's harmless when it's meant to be hurtful. Indignantly, the damage done, her heart broke against her ribcage. What was it, what was it that she was supposed to remember at times like this? Something her father had told her once…to fight, you must _fight back_. If someone hits you, you hit back…is that what he had meant?

            Now, she had yet to be touched physically, but she had been impaired on the inside of her body. Her head raged and screamed and she finally flew forward, a fist reconnecting with the world. Her world.

            "Victoria!"

            The calling of her name did not shatter the moment for anything; her fists rampaged as her mind wandered. No consequences, just blind frustration. Blind anger. She could feel the change in her body, in her mind, in her heart. It was hatred, and it was bred, and it would continue to breed. She couldn't even feel his hands scrabbling in a desperate attempt to push her away.

            "Victoria, stop!"

            Someone was pulling her back; her eyes were dark and fire burned there. It was as if a hand was being held over her face, reassuring that her target would cease to move and all she would have to do was let punches fly.

            And just as the hand began to close more tightly, it was abruptly removed and she could view the scene unfurling in front of her. The boy, collapsed on the floor, on the edge of consciousness. Covered in blood, hers and his. She had forgotten about the cuts, deeply indented into her palm, which were now spilling more freely than before.

            She could hear the sirens piercing the air of the quiet neighborhood but she felt nothing. No remorse, nor regret, nor anger, nor hatred. She felt blank.

            Somehow, though, the entire hallway of the school had been torn away; as if a bulldozer had smashed into it while the hand was encasing her eyes.

            Students that surrounded her simply stared; not at the missing hall, but at her.

            A dry whisper escaped her desiccated throat, "…what happened?"

            The sounds of children crying and whimpering enveloped her and it was as if she was being pulled towards the center of it; her entire body shuttered, crashed and fractured. The ground was near and all she knew was that it was cool and her vehement failure needed that.

_there's got to be someway to bring back her first sight._


	2. chapter one: turbulence

[ chapter one; turbulence. ]

_one devotion to an empty moment._

            "…like some sort of magic…"

            "…no one knows what happened…"

            "…school's in need of major reparation; I heard they were billing the kid's parents."

            Victoria Rose Lupin had never had the pleasure of being the pivot of discussion, but she could see no sense in finding pleasure right now.

            She had been told over and over again; she lost control, pummeled a male student, and out of the blue, lockers began to spring open and expel their contents. As soon as this had commenced, the windows in the hallway shattered and finally, the walls on either side seemed to explode outward. So many questions of how it happened; an expensive fireworks show, a strategic explosion?

            No, she had told them. All of them. She had no idea how that had happened; all she could remember were the boy's snide words, drawing her lips rigid and her muscles taut. She recalled the blood in her palm; the fossil of a disturbed calm. And, though it was vague, she seemed to summon up the recollection of her fist rupturing his jawbone. In fact, she later learned, she had shattered most of the bottom part of his jaw, along with multiple lacerations and, oh yes, not to forget the concussion. The doctors told her that if she had resumed the way that she was, she might have put him in a coma. Serves him right, she had said to them.

            _"No one refers to my parents as delinquents and gets away with that. It's like letting him off of a murder charge. I won't stand for it."_

            She had been called many different things since that incident. She was an open wound and others enjoyed rubbing salt into it.

            Alas, she could feel something short of happiness lighting up her dark eyes. Eyes she had inherited from her father; mysterious and vengeful. Eyes that spoke in place of words, words that no one ever seemed to listen to. Tresses of golden-blonde stretched in a perfectly straight order down to her elbows. Hair like her mother's; no trepidation there. Small and petite, but powerful at the same time. The boy never even had a chance.

            "Vic, come on." A hand pulled her away from the buzz of conversation; towards a seat in the backend of the train car.

            The inquisition in her eyes captured the older man unaware. When he provided no answer for her implicit line of questioning, she spoke.

            "Where exactly are we going?"

            "When we get there, you will know," he replied in an irritating tone.

            "I haven't the energy for your riddles, Remus. Why not save yourself the trouble of keeping it from me?" Victoria could easily distinguish that he was being bothersome purposefully but she snubbed it anyway, "I'm not a child anymore."

            "I know that, Victoria. Why do you convince yourself that no one sees it?" Remus Lupin watched her, a slightly resentful gleam in his eyes.

            "Because no one treats me like I've grown up," Victoria settled herself into the seat opposite him and smugly crossed her arms.

            "And how many times have I told you that I'm your father? It's disrespectful to call your father by his first name," He didn't even glance up from the Daily Prophet, which he had set out against his lap.

            "It's disrespectful, hurtful and wrong for you to abandon your wife and children though, isn't that true?" She knew immediately that she should not have said this.

            It had caught him off-guard and he glared in her direction; she did not understand and he could not make her, so it seemed best to let it be. Instead, he averted his eyes back to the paper and pulled a section out, "Here," he handed it to her, "Do something with yourself. Something not meant to upset me."

            Victoria took the offered section from him and stared down at it for a moment. "I'm eleven. I'm not interested in these things, dearest _father_."

            "Surely you can read though, correct?" Remus continued to immerse himself in the front page of the newspaper.

            Victoria's mouth flapped mutely before she finally closed it; it formed a perfectly straight line of great displeasure.

            After an hour or so of enduring her occasional glowering, Remus set down the newspaper and stared at her, "Do you want to know where I am taking you or not?"

            "I thought I would know when we got there," Victoria simpered, plainly amused by his sudden need to speak to her.

            Disregarding her remark, Remus continued, "You certainly can recall your godfather, Sirius?"

            A small smile twitched on her features, "Of course. Of _course_ I can. Mum took Basil and I to visit him now and then, because she said she rather missed him so."

            His expression turned slightly bitter at her words, to Victoria's grim satisfaction.

            "Ah. Well. She took you to 12 Grimmauld Place, correct?"

            "She did," Victoria clarified coldly, "I expect that's where we're going?"

            "It's a bit closer to Hogwarts. Your Mum knows that and she knows that's why I decided to take you there. Your Mum and I are still in the…" He lowered his voice and chanced a look around the train cart; no one appeared to be paying them any attention, so he went forth, "Order of the Phoenix and meetings are held at that house regularly. Unfortunately, you are far too young to sit in on any of those meetings anyway, but the fact stands that for the remaining weeks of the holidays, you will be seeing your Mum only when she attends the meetings. She agreed that she would bring Basil as well."

            "Well, I s'pose that's good then. At least I get to see them once in a while," Victoria had obviously not intended for that to come out wrong but a pang of guilt struck Remus forcefully in the side.

            "Indeed," he studied her for a moment; she had to stop acting older than her eleven years, otherwise he would be obligated to move her ahead of her age group at Hogwarts. But certainly, her brilliance was a paradigm of her mother's, and he was simultaneously struck by how much Victoria reminded him of Samantha.

            The difference between Samantha and himself was that he hadn't had strong beliefs in her faith and she was always confident in his. Paranoia and fear had always plagued their relationship until the day that Samantha had decidedly done the deed to prove Remus' suspicions.

            _"I never could live up to your expectations, Remus,"_ she had told him that day and his heart had died no sooner than the words had left her mouth.

            He shook the memory from his mind, desperate to be rid of it, though aware no such thing would happen.

            "You all right?"

            Remus was suddenly alert to Victoria peering at him curiously and he offered her a nod.

            It was nightfall by the time they were positioned in front of the old and bruised wooden door to number twelve, Grimmauld Place, and even by now Victoria was oddly jaded. She had not slept any on the train ride and thus was drifting in and out as she stood before the house. Remus did not bother to ring the doorbell; it would have resulted in unfavorable consequences anyway.

            He hastily ushered Victoria inside but when her legs collapsed, he swept her into his arms and murmured, "_Locomotor trunk…"_

            Her trunk, laden with every item of clothing she owned, zoomed inside. He switched her weight from one arm to his other and scrabbled for his wand to move the trunk to her room.

            "In need of some help, Remus?" Nymphadora Tonks appeared in the hallway, brandishing her wand. She whispered the same incantation and jerked her wand in the direction of Victoria's temporary bedroom. Her trunk picked itself up again and floated gingerly into the room. "Hermione, Ron, Ginny and the twins are downstairs as well. Kingsley and Arthur have gone to fetch Harry…he's still having an awful time at the Dursleys," Tonks motioned Remus, still holding onto Victoria, to the basement kitchen.

            He followed tiredly, his limbs begging for sleep. When he reached the last step, he was greeted by a roar of noise, which was just as abruptly shushed out of astonishment of the sleeping girl in Remus' arms.

            He set Victoria into a chair and turned to face the silent eyes, "Shouldn't you lot be in bed?" He directed the question at the four Weasley children and Hermione Granger.

            Molly Weasley rushed forward, running her hand across Victoria's forehead, "Is she all right, Remus? She's a bit feverish to the touch."

            "She's fine, Molly dear, don't you fret. She's just had a long day."

            "Who's that?" Ginny was the first to come round from the stupor and she had edged a bit closer to Victoria, eyeing her a bit wearily.

            "This is my daughter, Victoria Rose," Remus' hand absently strayed to Victoria's hair, which he disheveled in an affectionate way.

            "Since when do you have a _daughter_, Lupin?" Ron asked in awe, his eyes set on the tiny girl in the chair.

            "Since eleven years ago, Ronald," he offered the youngest Weasley male a depleted smile.

            "Eleven? Oh, I suppose she'll be starting on at Hogwarts this year?" One of the twins questioned further.

            Remus sat down resignedly and gesticulated for them to gather, "Indeed. The reason I was alerted to other affairs this morning is because Victoria was provoked and let loose a large show of magical powers, wrecking her school, which she was attending over the holidays as a day-care facility. An entire hallway of her Muggle school is now missing…she's had a _very_ long day."

            "Woah. Were any of us capable of that when we were eleven?" Ginny asked in soft tones, bending over Victoria's chair.

            "Probably. I'm not sure though." Remus was stroking his temples gently and Molly shooed her children off.

            "To bed, all of you. It's getting quite late and—"

            "But Mum, Hermione and I were staying up to wait for Harry, you said we could!" Ron objected automatically, his voice primed to rise in case a dispute broke out.

            "Ronald Weasley," Molly's form suddenly seemed to take on a different, darker stand. She gathered herself in an instant, towering over him. Her voice immediately lost any motherly quality and took one of fierce indignation, "You are going to bed. Right now. Whether you like it or not. Harry will be up as soon as he gets here."

            "But you said we could, Mum—"

            She glowered at him.

            Ron's argument fell flat instantly and he cowered slightly, to Remus' bemusement. It was rare for Molly to have to use this sort of tone with Ron; she reserved it mainly for the twins.

            "…we should go to bed, Ron," Hermione's voice of reason cut the tension and he could only nod meekly before trailing up the steps after her and the other Weasley children.

            After they had gone, Molly shook her head, enraged. "Honestly, that boy thinks he can—he can tell me…" Her raving continued under her breath; she moved off towards the stairs to make sure that all four of her children had gone straight to their respective rooms.

            Remus leaned back in the chair, eyes fluttering shut. _Can't fall asleep here. Gotta take Victoria up to bed._

            His mind began malfunctioning at this; he felt a wave of exhaustion sweep him again. He ignored the footsteps coming down the steps. It was just Molly, returning from her check-up on the kids…

            But it was a voice, completely distinct from Molly's, that called his name.


End file.
